


The Light to His Darkness

by susiephalange



Category: Divergent - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fears/Phobias, Female!Reader - Freeform, Fluff, dauntless, gun - Freeform, it's Dauntless after all, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6907318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susiephalange/pseuds/susiephalange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a bold, ex-Amity girl who can't manage much in life but to prove everyone wrong. When it comes to becoming Dauntless, there's one obstacle between you and being a part of the black-wearing warrior clan: Eric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light to His Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just warning you that in here is a fear sequence like the movie, and in that, there's a moment where it may be trigger-y for readers who are sensitive to falling, spiders, dark deep water, small boxes, cats and a gun on the forehead. It's only a small part, only twenty words or so, but I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable WuW.

The day you chose Dauntless shocked the Amity nation. A red and yellow envoy of peace, raised in the ways of the calm and negotiation to avoid conflict, choosing Dauntless? The warrior faction, the tough, materialistic hard-headed soldiers? Such a change hadn't happened for years; it was a rarity for Amity to Transfer, let alone to go to Dauntless. Maybe that's why you felt like you were more of an ugly duckling in a pond of gangly geese on the train to the compound.

They hadn't even looked at me; you remember your parents' shivers. Your brothers and sisters, too young to come to the Choosing Ceremony would be asking them soon, where's big sister _______?

"I thought Amity were supposed to smile more," a black and white wearing ex-Candor remarked.

You turn to him, and giving him the biggest smile you can, punch him square on the nose. "'M not Amity anymore, so quit it."

He was silent for the rest of the journey. And so were you, quietly nursing your smarting knuckles. But nothing hurt more than the gravel the Initiates jumped onto from the train. Or words.

Standing at the edge of the building, was a man with well defined muscles and piercing eyes that if they were guns, would have already shot you with their intensity.

"Jump? We already jumped!" The boy you punched argued.

Not soon after, another outlier in the transfers, a small Abnegation girl volunteered to jump first. Then followed a few ex-Erudite's, and Candor's. A few were left on the rooftop, and now without the protection of numbers, you felt his eyes on you.

"Aren't going to jump, or are you, pansycake?" He ridiculed you, sizing you up with his eyes. There were no such slurs in Amity, but you knew it was one when it left his mouth. Even as ridiculous as it sounded. "Did you pick Dauntless because you thought you were tough?"

You swallow, walking to him by the edge. The last three transfers, Candor, watch with surprising silence that betrays their old faction's way.

"I think I'm willing to try," you tell him.

He raises an eyebrow. "Try what, Initiate?" He asks you.

"Try to impress you." You smile, and twisting, fall backwards down the drop. The last thing you see of the outside world is his face, bewildered by your answer.

 

 

You were not ex-Erudite, but it was plain to see that with each Transfer's background, they had different strengths. The ex-Abnegation girl named Tris seemed to be very selfless - or stupid, standing in front of the target range like that for Al! - Christina was upfront about whatever was bothering her, the same as Peter (to less of a amicable degree), and you, you've been nothing but weak. Empathetic, maybe, but not strong measurable by Dauntless.

Or, that's what Eric infers. It's the way he side glances you during the initiation with his disapproving frown, his set jaw when you're carted out yet again for loosing a fight. It's clear. Yes, the skin on your knuckles is splitting and healing only to be broken once more the next day. Your skin bruises only to be bruised once more. It's plain for anyone who's around to see - you're the weakest initiate the Dauntless have ever accepted into the folds of their black-wearing warrior clan. Even Tris, who was as wiry as you, from the same non-fighting background has excelled in this place.

You know within the time frame you'll be exiled. Become factionless. It's plain. You're useless.

"Initiate!"

Your punch lands heavier than the last set, waking you from your half-daydream state. It's a place you go to when the pain becomes too much - to just numb it with your fanciful thoughts. Blinking, you wonder what had brought you out of your daydreams. A cleared throat reminds you.

Eric.

"Yes, sir?" You raise your eyes to his. In the light of the training area, he looks even meaner. If that were possible.

"You're not up to the speed of Dauntless, are you?" He asks. It's not a question. It's an accusation. 

"Yes, sir." You don't deny it. "I'll go now -,"

His pierced brow raises. "Where?" He wonders. He draws out the next word to make a mockery of you, "Initiate?"

You're thankful the lighting isn't very good in the trailing room, because at that moment your face is aflame with an Amity red blush. And not out of merriment, as your face used to be, but humiliation.

"To - pack my things. I know I'm not good enough." You state, and add hastily, "Sir."

Eric's lips twitch at the side, and you can't help but wonder if that was his version of a smile. "You're not going anywhere, Initiate. Specifically, now. When everyone goes for dinner, you're not. Understood?"

You still. Is this like house arrest? Maybe a different form of corporeal punishment? Internally, you pout. Dinner is your favorite meal of the night (Amity had dinner, supper and if you were lucky on Choosing Days you weren't Choosing, hot chocolate late at night) and you were missing it.

"Yes, sir." You agree.

He nods to you. Any emotion you thought you could see on his face has been wiped clean. "Return to your drills. Start from the top."

Again? He wanted you - you were nearly finished the reps! Your mind protested. You hope the blood running from your face isn't something Eric can see, but he evidently does. You know by the huff he gives you, and the way he moves toward you.

"Your form is wrong," he corrects you, leaning in. His hands are on your shoulders, picking you up like a puppeteer and marionette. You're too busy focused on not collapsing from doing the excessive training to protest the intimacy. "Square up, like you're about to go fight Peter. Tuck your head in. Breathe through the nose."

You do. Suddenly, the pain ebbs away - it must have been linked to the muscle tension from the other way! - and you're throwing punches and receiving Eric's hum of approval in your ear.

"Alright, initiates, that'll be all for today!" Four calls out to your group.

You break your focus to glance at the group as they move away, achy, to shower and have dinner. You also notice how Eric's talking to Four - when had he left your side? Only now you see him over there, the ghost of his touch is gone - discussing something in a heated manner, in low tones.

"Amity!" You hear Eric say. You don't much want to listen, and try to cover up their conversation with your reps. If you're right, you've got only twenty more to go in your redo of the fifty. Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, but even counting mentally can't block out the conversation.

"...feelings! What if she's..." Four lowers his voice, but even with your focus on the reps - twelve, eleven, ten - you still hear him, "Becomes Factionless..."

There's a noise that fills the training room then. It's crude, a noise you'd hear from a desperate, wounded animal, the sort of noise you'd associate with hopelessness and utter failure. And it isn't until you throw the last punch that it's you who made that noise.

"I'm -," you're breathless, but you turn to Eric and Four respectively, because Dauntless don't whisper or cower with their achievements. "D-,"

The next thing you see is a slightly more well-lit room. There's a beeping, and a steady pace of heavy footsteps nearby. The first thing to hurt is your head, and that's because you attempt to sit up.

"Careful, careful," a voice hums dryly. "You're not well enough for that, yet."

You look to where the voice comes from, and sigh. A Dauntless medic stands with her arms crossed, the bar through her lip as unimpressed with your presence in the infirmary.

"I have to keep training," you manage to say, despite your thick throat. "I -,"

He clears his throat.

It's then you notice Eric's on the other side of the bed. If it's even possible, he's taller than you've ever seen him, and that's not because you're lying on a bed. He seems to be a hunk of muscle, a mountain that looks upon you with derision and supremacy.

"It's been decided since you're unwell for this round of the ranking that you're not to be counted in the removal," he states. You watch his cold eyes flick to the medic, and add, "I'd like a moment to speak with the Initiate, Marta." It isn't a request. It's a statement.

Marta nods, and her judgmental stare departs the room.

"Who'd you have to kill to keep me?" You broke the silence.

Eric doesn't respond. All he does is take a seat in the little fold out chair by the bed. He becomes a sitting mass of tattooed and pierced man.

"Because it was pretty clear since you saw the little girl with red and yellow clothes jump off your precious Dauntless train that you didn't like me. And I've been doing my best - I've always felt I was meant to be in this faction, not where I came from, but honestly, all I do is try my best!" You spill, your eyes following suit with tears. "All I do is try to make the cut. And then you go and make me -,"

He grunts, interrupting you, "_______, you don't think I made you so tired that you collapsed for no reason, right?" He quirks an eyebrow. "I get you've been doing your best, but your best isn't the best of the faction. I saved your ass before you could get it kicked out."

You're silent.

"But that doesn't mean you like me, though." You shift in the gurney to face him more. His neck tattoos are the same shade as the wall's shadows behind him, making the illusion of his head to be floating above his shoulders. And then it hits you. "...oh."

Eric nods. "I didn't have to kill anyone, I just had to put up a good argument that you're not up to the speed of the other initiates due to the fact you're in here," he raises his finger to point to the bed you're on, "and they're out there."

You blink. Suddenly, a more important question flutters into your mind. "But did I miss dinner?"

He smirks. "Yeah. It was pretty good."

You scrunch your nose. "Pansy..." You frown, trying to remember the insult he gave you the first time you two met, "Pansycake."

He laughs. 

Two weeks later, and it's the final exam. The last test to see if you make the cut into Dauntless with the rest of the Initiates. The stakes are raised because they've mixed the groups, and that two have left the mass. Al, in a bag, and Edward, eyeless. You're barely on the bottom of the list anymore, not since the fight with Peter, who tired pretty quickly after a quick smack down on the mat.

But today, your Amity heritage is even more evident than ever. Whilst they are all frightened about their outcome - who had ever heard of a public viewing of a serum? - you're quietly assuring yourself and your small clic of Christina, Will, Tris that it'll be all fine.

Time passes. Slower than ever. Even though the door is sound proof you swear you can hear things from instead. Screams? Hopefully not. When the initiates and you went through the first time with the fear serum, it had been intense - but not painful.

On your fingers, you count your seven fears.

It's calming, focusing on them one by one.

"_________?" The voice calls your name. It isn't until then you realize you're the last name called, and you've been sitting alone waiting to be under the test.

You stand. You take a deep breath, and follow the Dauntless leader - Max? You hadn't ever been paying much attention to him, just trying to get into the faction - into the room.

It's spacious. Clean, bright, shiny silver. Like the previous time, there's a chair that reminds you of a reclining space-age death trap. Beside it stands Four, and by the wall, there's Eric with the other Dauntless leaders and Erudite officials. It isn't the eyes of Four who you watch - calculative, silent - it's Eric's, even as the probes are placed on your skin.

"I'm injecting the serum now," Four tells you. "Good luck, initiate."

 

 

 

You wake, rising to see the arena shocked at your fears. You can't quite remember what they were - heights, jump scares, spiders, unknown waters, mauled by cats, claustrophobia, sudden death...

"Come with me," you feel Eric's hand on your back, leading you out. You can't focus on anything, just the nauseous swaying your ears causes your body to rock to. "Come on," he hisses, and walks faster.

The memories of the serum come back. You'd fallen from a building, to turn your belt into a grappling hook on a power line. A room had filled with spiders, and you had to walk through it. It had filled up with dark deep waters, and swallowed you whole, to only be trapped in a small box, when you relented fighting against, a million myriads of cats had come to envelop you. But then...

"Is that how you really think of me?" 

You're startled, coming back. Eric's face is wildly emotional. He looks like he saw a shadow of his destroy something he loved, and you're the blame. 

On your fingers, you count what fears you faced. 1, 2, 3...6... "You were in my sudden death fear?" you whisper. "Oh no, I'm so sorry..." you ebb away from Eric, staring dumbfounded. "I don't remember it, oh no...what - what did I do?"

He takes out a small device from his jacket, and shows you the screen. It's a small recording of the fear - and it's strange to see it. It's your fears, second hand. Eric skips to the right part, and your lips open slightly. No. 

His hands are in yours, walking a patrol, a gun in the other. His eyes sparkle. But it diminishes when gunfire rains on you, and yanking him to the covered area, you hide. Eric's eyes turn dark, and his gun is pointed at your forehead. 

"Pansycake," he hisses, "Cowering here. Dauntless don't do this, Initiate. You afraid?" 

You nod. "Y-yes."

Eric pushes the gun harder into your forehead. "You shouldn't be. You're a robot now. Like me."

 

You gasp noisily, hitting your body against the wall as you try to get away from the device that showed you what you feared most. Your whole body was shaking - how very un-Dauntless! - and you knew Eric was watching your ever move. 

"So, I'm defiantly getting kicked out now?" you whisper. 

Eric frowns. "No," he whispers. "You have my vote. And, sympathy. I didn't know you thought of me that way."

You shake your head. "I don't think of you as a robot," you tell him. Is that a tear falling down your cheek?

He chuckles, wiping it away. "No, I wasn't talking about that. I meant," he reached down, and encased his hand over yours. "Like this."

You nod. 

"I've liked you for a while now," you admit, blushing. 

He rids the distance between the two of you, and plants a kiss on your forehead. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests, find me on Tumblr at @susiephalange, or [@phalangewrites](https://phalangewrites.tumblr.com/request_conditions) ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ✿


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